


cookie

by falloutmars



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, all jughead has ever wanted is betty and a dog, guess what? he got both!, honestly not much happens i just want my favs to have a dog of their own, its literally just Soft dog content, its v v soft, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22164973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutmars/pseuds/falloutmars
Summary: “Come on, Betty, getting a dog would be great for us,” Jughead practically begs during dinner one night.She sighs. “I don’t know, Jug. I’ve never had a dog, I’m not sure.”-or, Betty and Jughead adopt a dog
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	cookie

**Author's Note:**

> this is sO self indulgent so i just hope someone out there likes it.
> 
> (this may or may not be influenced by my intense want for lili & cole to get a dog)

“Come on, Betty, getting a dog would be great for us,” Jughead practically begs during dinner one night.

She sighs. “I don’t know, Jug. I’ve never had a dog, I’m not sure.”

And this is how it goes for weeks on end, ever since they move into their house in Seattle. They’ve lived together since high school, when her mom sold her family home to his mom without the rest of his family knowing. She stayed with Veronica for a while, but then his mom left town again and she decided to finally accept his offer of living with them. Ever since then, they stayed living together, deciding they’re always better together. In college, it was a shitty one bed apartment in New York City that they could barely afford. For a few years after, they tried to continue living there, but they both quickly outgrew the city, craving something else, something new, further away from their hometown. So they move to Seattle and into a two bedroom house with plenty of space and a garden. Much more than they ever had in New York City. It gives them enough space to grow, and enough space for both of them to work from home without being on top of each other. (That is, unless they _want_ to.) 

And much to Jughead’s delight, it gives them enough space to get a dog. His childhood dog, Hot Dog, died shortly before moving from Sunnyside Trailer Park to Elm Street, and since then, he’s lived without one. He misses him terribly, and now they have more space and time with them both working from home as freelance writers, he wants them to get one together. As a start to their family.

Betty, on the other hand, has never had a dog. She had a cat called Caramel when she was younger, who she loved a lot, but appreciated the lack of effort needed in looking after. So, she’s very reluctant to get a dog. But Jughead is very, very persistent. 

He’s out buying them breakfast one morning before they start their days of writing when he sees a scruffy-looking black and white dog. It reminds him of Hot Dog, smiling at the memory. He sneakily takes a photo, texting it to Betty with the halo-and-smile emoji. She replies almost immediately, with two emojis: eye rolling and red heart. He laughs to himself at their small interaction, pocketing his phone and heading back home. 

This becomes some kind of habit for Jughead. Every time he goes out without her, he’ll send her photos of any and all dogs he sees. And if she’s with him, he’ll not-so-subtly point out each dog excitedly, hoping that he’ll convince her. More often than not, he’s met with an affection filled eye roll. He always laughs it off, shaking his head at her resistance. 

One afternoon, they’re both working at home - her upstairs in the second bedroom turned office, him downstairs in the actual office room - when he gets a text. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he is shocked to find a message from Betty. He opens it with a frown, wondering why she didn’t just come down to talk to him. His frown is quickly replaced with a toothy grin when he sees what she’s sent. Instead of replying via text, he sprints upstairs and into the room she’s working in. 

“Betts?” he pants, stopping in the doorway. “Do you mean this?” He points to his phone.

She laughs lightly. “Yes, I think I do.”

He looks down at the message, showing a link to an animal shelter around half an hour from their home. He locks his phone, carelessly throwing it on the sofa bed they keep in the room for guests, still grinning. In three big strides, he is stood in front of her, moving his hands to cup her face and pull her in for a kiss filled with love and gratitude. 

“Thank you, Betts,” he mumbles against her lips, before kissing her once more. (Not long after, any hope of work is gone.)

—

A few weeks later, after many long discussions, Betty and Jughead find themselves on their way to the shelter Betty suggested. On the drive there, Jughead asks her approximately eight times if she’s _sure_ about this. Like before, she sends him an affection filled eye roll, only this time, she’s already convinced. 

On the ninth time, she turns it round on him: “ _I’m_ sure, Jug, but now I’m thinking that _you’re_ not.”

He laughs. “Of course I’m sure, Betty. We’re starting a family and it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Her heart swells at the sentiment. “It’s all I’ve wanted too,” she replies, slightly choked up.

Arriving at the shelter, they walk inside hand in hand. They talk with a pleasant receptionist who asks them a few questions about their needs and wants, as well as a bit about them and where they live. It’s standard - everything they’ve prepared for and discussed - but it gets them both excited for what’s to come. 

After their forms are processed, a volunteer comes to show them the animals they currently have up for adoption. They’re led through a quiet corridor to the room in which all the dogs live in pens along each side. Betty holds tightly onto Jughead’s hand, and he can tell that she’s feeling just as nervous as he is. 

The next hour is a blur for both of them. They hold onto each other as the volunteer talks through the twenty or so dogs that are currently waiting to be adopted at this particular shelter. It ranges from 12 week old puppies abandoned by their mother to poorly treated eldery dogs wanting a home for their last few months. All of them have different stories and histories, each of which break Betty’s heart. She has tears in her eyes when the volunteer leaves them for a moment to discuss their thoughts. 

Jughead looks over at her with intense worry in his eyes. “Are you okay?”

She removes her hand from his, using it to wipe the tears that started to escape. “Yeah, yes. I just- I didn’t want a dog, and now I want them all.” 

He smiles. “As much as I’d like to say yes, I’m afraid I don’t think we can have them all.”

“I know,” she giggles, grabbing his hand back as they begin to pace back up the middle of the kennels. “So, which one then?”

For the next half an hour, Betty and Jughead discuss their choices with one another as well as the staff at the shelter. Eventually, they decide to properly meet a 1 year old poodle cross. He’s super fluffy - his fur mainly white, scattered with black blotches, very similar to Hot Dog - and has had a tough start to life, only now being fully ready for a family life. He didn’t have a name when the shelter found him, so they called him Cookie, telling Betty and Jughead that his black splodges reminded them of chocolate chips. Of course, this food related name gets an immediate _yes_ from Jughead, making Betty laugh under her breath. 

The volunteer leads them to a quiet room. In the corner, there’s a grey sofa, where she tells them to take a seat while she collects Cookie. By the side of the sofa lives a box of dog toys. As requested, Jughead removes the lid and takes a few out to scatter around the floor for when the puppy comes in. He starts pacing, and Betty can tell that he’s getting nervous. She grabs his hand as he steps past her, motioning for him to sit with her. He does, turning to face her. Squeezing his hand, she smiles gently and tilts her head as a prompt for him to talk to her.

“Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” Jughead asks, fiddling with the edge of his beanie. 

She shrugs. “I mean, I think so. I think it’ll be good for us, get us out and stuff.”

“What about if we want to go away?” He frowns, avoiding her gaze.

“We take him with us,” she says simply. Pausing, she plays with his fingers while she takes a moment to think. After half a minute of so, she continues. “And if we can’t, we have plenty of friends who will help us out. It’s not like we go away that much anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” His eyes move to hers, and he smiles. “Potential Hot Dog number 2, eh?”

She laughs, and links their fingers together again. “I’m excited now, Jug. I really hope he likes us.”

“Me too, Betts, me too.”

The sound of the door opening snaps their eyes away from each other and towards the doorway. In comes a rather excitable Cookie and the volunteer laughing at his enthusiasm. She explains a bit about his situation and what to expect, before moving away from the door and allowing the dog to move to where Betty and Jughead are sat, whilst still being on a leash. Immediately, he runs over to them in a blur of grey, excitedly jumping up at them. Betty giggles, and the pair of them start to make a fuss of him, making sure to be gentle. 

After a couple of minutes of him getting used to them, the volunteer lets him off of his leash, handing them some treats to give him. Jughead notices that she’s watching them very carefully, but he thinks she’s happy with them when he sees her smiling as Betty softly speaks to him.

They spend around forty minutes playing with him, feeding him treats, and talking with the volunteer when he jumps up on the sofa and plonks himself right between the pair, falling asleep almost immediately. Both of their faces are plastered with grins, neither being able to get over how cute he is. Betty continues stoking him gently as he sleeps, happy that it isn’t bothering or disturbing him. Jughead, on the other hand, is intensely trying not to melt at the image in front of his eyes. It’s all he’s ever wanted, really. Betty Cooper and puppy of their own. (It dawns on him that this could be his life for a very long time and he’s never been happier at the prospect.

—

Two weeks later, it’s early on a Monday morning and Jughead is in bed with a sleeping Betty cuddled around him, similar to every other day of the week. This time, however, a cheeky Cookie has jumped up from his bed in the corner of their room to their bed and is now curled up next to Betty. It’s probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen, so he snaps a quick photo while they are both still sleeping. 

Instead of getting up so he can go out to buy breakfast for when Betty wakes up, he decides to indulge in this moment, and closes his eyes. 

He falls asleep that morning with a smile on his face, sleepily deciding that getting Cookie is the final piece of his happiness puzzle. 

~fin.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to anyone who actually read this trash. as always, comments & kudos are greatly appreciated - i honestly live for ao3 emails.


End file.
